So what do you do? I work for the church where everything goes wrong

I spent a little time at the recent annual meetings talking with many of the new ministers and student ministers. They are a great bunch by the way. In fact, in many ways, I think it is my favourite aspect of annual meetings each year, getting to know these talented and interesting people. I spent quite a bit of the time talking to and getting to know Peter Flower who will be joining both of the congregations I serve for a year, from September, as part of his ministerial training. He is an interesting man, he has a quiet depth about him. He was the primary musician of the week and is certainly gifted. As we were talking, he asked me about the congregations. So, I told him a little about the places and the people. I talked about our warmth and heart, that we have a humour, but we are far from perfect. In fact, I said we were a bit like the church that the minister served in the piece “The Church Where Everything Goes Wrong” by Elea Kemler. I referenced the final paragraph, that goes as follows.

“But I also imagine a God who is touched and a little honored by our efforts, however halting, to worship and give praise. I imagine a God who is moved by our attempts to care for one another and to name the things we know as holy. There is a warmth in this congregation that is new to me, a simple friendliness that shines through the fumblings and failures, a love that makes the ragged edges smooth. I have always wanted to believe that our mistakes aren't the most important parts of us. I have always wanted to believe that kindness and compassion matter more than anything. I sense that I can learn this here.”

This is spirituality in community to me, “The Church Where everything Goes Wrong”

It was lovely the next morning to see Peter lead worship and to share the piece “The Church Where Everything Goes Wrong” by Elea Kemler. Peter has a lovely and touching way about him, there is a warmth and quiet depth too. He is not showy, but he pays attention. No doubt there will be moments where things go wrong in our time together, there will be laughter, but I also witnessed compassion and kindness and this is what matters most in ministry and life. It is certainly what church ought to be about.

Now it seems I was obviously tempting fate, to bring up this piece, as I witnessed an example of “The Church Where Everything Goes Wrong” over Easter weekend. One element I loved was the fact that it involved both congregations. It began on Saturday at the rehearsal of Melissa and Graeme’s wedding. Everything was organised to precisions. Melissa’s friends and bridesmaids were making sure everything was perfectly in place. There was a problem though. Melissa’s mum Penny was not there for the rehearsal, as she was at the dentist trying to get the cap of her tooth replaced. We rehearsed the wedding to the word, including how the couple would proceed in, with Derek walking his daughter down the aisle. It was choreographed to precision, you would expect nothing less from dancers. The bride and some of the brides maids were dancers. We even planned which side Derek would walk, due to his walking stick, we had to break with tradition. Everything was in its place. How could anything go wrong.

I went off on Easter morning to lead worship at Urmston, no Derek of course as he was preparing for the wedding, the family were ensuring nothing went wrong. I then headed to Altrincham to lead the service, which would be followed an hour later by the wedding. People began to arrive early, just as the Easter service ended. I suggested they join the congregation for refreshments. They did creating a beautiful atmosphere around the place in the Easter sunshine. All was going well and then the hoodoo struck, “The Church Where Everything Goes Wrong”. Derek had forgotten his walking stick. What to do. He couldn’t walk his daughter down the aisle without it. So, we searched around. Gwyneth, the chair of the Altrincham congregation shot off home, as she thought she had one. She didn’t. Someone found a branch broken off from a tree, just in case there was nothing else. I found a large umbrella. Someone thought they might have a spare one in their car. Sadly, they didn’t. As more guests arrived, we asked the bizarre question “Do you have a walking stick”. Well one thought he did, in fact it was one that had been up the Himalaya’s. This seemed like a good omen. So off he went to fetch it. He returned just in time, so all was well. Ken the retired Vicar saved the day. No doubt he knows something about “The Church Where Everything Goes Wrong”

The service went beautifully well, so much love was shared. Folk coming together to help one another in joyous celebration. A tooth even arrived at the reception, sent via Amazon. This was soon fitted and Penny was able to enjoy the afternoon and evening. So much kindness, love and compassion shared by all. Afterall this is what really matters, such a beautiful example of “The Church Where Everything Goes Wrong”

I am the minister who serves “The Church Where Everything Goes Wrong”, I think it suits who I am. I am not in any sense orthodox. I remember early in my time with the good folk of Altrincham and Urmston a congregant saying that I was unlike any minister they had met before. I also remember Bill Darlison saying in response to this “Danny you are unlike any minister that anyone has met before.” It was meant as a compliment, I think! I have my shortcomings, as well as my capabilities. I do think I exemplify kindness, love and compassion though, most of the time. I give all that have and from my sometimes wounded heart. I see examples of this amongst the crop of new ministers and I certainly see it in Peter. He will be his own man, of this I am certain. It is the only way to minister, you cannot create the perfect AI minister. Well, I hope to God you cannot.

Now I know I’m not your typical minister, I’m not sure I’m your typical anything, I’m not sure I’d want to be in any case. People who don’t know me are often surprised when they discover what I do. I was asked by someone recently and a few weeks later they confessed to being shocked at first.

This of course brings to mind another question that I’m often asked...

“So as a minister what do you?” Or sometimes, “what do you the rest of the week?” I’m sure it is something most folk wonder about from time to time. I’m also asked how is it going, the job I mean? Again, this is hard to answer. My usual response is “Well they haven’t chased me out of town yet.” Which is quickly followed by, “I am loved, they love me.” In fact, it is one of the few things of certainty I have in life, that I am loved.

It brought to mind a series of answers given by 5 olds when asked what the minister does, by Bruce T Marshall. The children gave some great responses and I do love his final concluding words

“The minister talks to people when there are problems because it’s better to talk about problems than to hit each other.” What an elegant statement to come from a five year old, to come from anybody.

I’ll let that statement stand. Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

I do believe that it points to what the role of a minister is or what is means to minister. Now of course etymologically speaking to minister is to serve and to serve is to love in its truest sense. Now the love I am talking of here is agape love, self giving love, love without prejudice. Which I believe is perfectly exemplified in these words from Matthew’s Gospel chapter ch 5 vv 48 “Therefore be the perfect, like your father in heaven is perfect”. This is the love that is the root on which ministry must grow. Perfect love is love without prejudice, love for all regardless of where a person has been, who they are, where they are from, what they may or may not have done in the past. This is the love that is expressed in the prodigal son parable. To me this is the essence of love and service; this is the essence of ministry. It is the purpose of my role and it is the purpose of the communities I serve. This I believe is the spirit that must run through all that I do and all that the communities do. Now of course I fall short of this and our community of people fall short of this, but we do aspire, we aim at this and accept that it is ok to fall short. It’s ok! It is also ok to laugh when things go wrong, as we did on Sunday afternoon.

No one can get everything right. I need to remember that, and we need to remember that. Like Elea Kemler I can get frustrated at things not working out they way I would like them too, I am sure we all do. That said just like in “The Church Where Everything Goes Wrong” I too want to believe that kindness and compassion are what matter the most, to me this is what service and love are all about. This is my hope and dream, to model this Love.

The Unitarian tradition emphasises not only the priesthood, but also the prophet hood of all believers. I am not the only minister in the congregations; we minister as a community of individuals not only to ourselves, but also to our wider community. We offer love and service to all. We welcome all, to come as they are exactly as they are, but not to expect to leave in exactly the same condition; to be transformed in a loving and accepting way when they leave this place and to carry that out into their world.

To minister is to be a guest if only for a short while in the life of another human being. This begins by being both a good host and guest.

Religion for me, or at least the free religion that we aspire to be is about love and service. It’s about walking with people in their despair and their hope, in their suffering and their bliss and all that lies in between. It’s about accepting them as they are in all that they are. This is love in its truest sense. It’s about offering perfect love and making that love manifest in all that we feel, all that we think, all that we say and all that we do.

So, in answer to the question, what do I do? Well, I minister to “The Church Where Everything Goes Wrong”. A place where kindness, love and compassion matter most. A place of acceptance of the perfectly imperfect in this world, who aspire to offer perfect Love, a Love without prejudice. A place where anyone may feel they belong. A place where we are unafraid to laugh at ourselves and one another, where we take what we do seriously, but not ourselves too seriously. I give thanks for all who come and join with me, to sing with.

Come sing a song with me, come sing a song with me, come sing a song with me. That I might know your mind. And I’ll being you hope, when hope is hard to find and I’ll bring a song of love and a rose in the winter time.

Thank you for joining with me.

This is “The Church Where Everything Goes Wrong”, Welcome!

Please find below a video devotion based on the material in this "Blogspot"

I'm a Universalist, Universalist; I Believe in Universal Universalism

Just as I had completed writing the sermon, from which this "blogspot" is based and was about to print it off I thought I’d take a look at Facebook to see what folk were talking about. The first thing I saw was the following Meme published by the Unitarian Publicity Officer Rory Castle-Jones. So I thought I’d add it as way of introduction.

We love Jesus.
We love Buddha too.
And Muhammad and Krishna and Moses and Guru Nanak and Julian of Norwich. And lots of other folks.
We find that when you look for it,
you find spiritual wisdom in lots of places.
And why should wisdom only come from one place?
Why should God only care about one religion?
What if God's love is bigger than any one religion?
What if God speaks in a thousand different voices?
Shouldn't we listen?
We believe that truth is bigger than any one religion.
We believe that love is bigger than any one belief.

We are Unitarians.

...Seemed like a perfect introduction to this piece, so thank you for that Universal Spirit of Life...

I was talking with someone the other day. It’s the kind of conversation I often find myself in when people discover who I am and more importantly what I do. Assumptions are made, some of those by me by the way. The person was struggling with life in many ways and they told me that nothing I could do or say would help. I believed them, I could see I could not help them. So I did the best thing I could do, I listened. They described how nothing is real and that life is merely an illusion and that we need to truly embrace and experience this nothingness. That there is no self. I listened and tried to identify. I even shared about transcendent moments of my own, ones I have heard others attempt to describe, moments when I have experienced what it is to melt into the ground of all being, to know the oneness of everything to feel held in the loving embrace of what I would call God.  The person looked at me as if I was mad and I sensed powerfully that they felt utterly disconnected from everything in that moment. Oh how I wished I could have helped, maybe I did in some small way. As I left then I remembered moments in my life when I had felt utterly disconnected from everything and everyone, much like the prodigal son. The only difference being that the person I was listening to felt that there was no one and nothing to return to, that life is merely an illusion. Thankfully I see clearly that this is not the case. I have found a place to return to. I have found a home in life, in reality. Life is many things, but an illusion it is not.

I believe in everything and that little bit more than everything that is at the core of it all, connecting it all. I believe utterly in this Universal Love.

A little later that day I found myself in another conversation with someone who has recently awoken spiritually. They are fascinated by spiritual matters. Again I found myself mainly listening to them and remembering similar experiences. And then it happened, they came out with the ultimate cliché, one I have said myself over the years. Again they knew what I do for a living and began telling me all that is wrong with religion. They said “Religion is for people who are afraid to go to Hell where as spirituality is for people who have already been there.” We talked for some time and I spoke of my own Unitarian tradition and tried to explain that what they say of religion is not true of all forms of religion. I spoke a little of the need for community and how this enhances ones personal spirituality and that this can be achieved without dogma. I spoke specifically about Universalism and how they were even known as “The No Hellers”. They were not in the least bit interested. So we left and went about our business.

It got me thinking about the free religious tradition I am a part of and also my feelings of faith etc, how I identify my own beliefs. For I know that those who I congregate with do not all believe and disbelieve the same. Now within our free religious tradition each congregation is linked through a wider denomination named “The General Assembly of Unitarian and Free Christian Churches”. There is no ruling body and no one has authority over anyone else. Each congregation is self governing and each member of the congregation is free to believe as their conscience dictates. We are closely connected to other similar denominations throughout the world. In America the denomination is called Unitarian Universalists. Which is essentially two denominations that came together as one in the early 1960’s. They each have their own history. I have over the years read much by many Unitarians and Universalist and have found that I actually seem to connect, spiritually at least, more with Universalist than the Unitarians. So much so that a few years ago I declared myself as a Universalist. A Unitarian friend asked me “What kind of Universalist I was?” I paused and thought for a moment and then I answered “I am a Universalist, Universalist”. They were another who looked at me as if I was mad and so I explained that I was a Universalist in the old sense. I do not believe in hell and damnation. That the God of my limited understanding would never condemn anyone to an eternity in Hell; I do not believe that some are saved and others are unsaved. I believe that God has an intimate love for all, that if there is a hell it is a state of being that can be experienced within life. I talked about the "Prodigal Son" parable and I also spoke of my belief that this love is always there waiting for us. I also said that I was a universalist in a more modern understanding too in that I see truth in so many other traditions. That none can reveal the whole truth, that they are windows that let some of the light through. I also talked of a belief in the interconnectedness of all life and that all that happens and does not happen matters. That divinity is present within everything, a kind of Universal Love I suppose.

I remember a few years ago hearing a joke about the difference between the nineteenth century Unitarians and the Universalist. It is said that the Unitarians believed that humanity was too good to be rejected by God where as the Universalists believed that God was too good to ever reject humanity.

I am definitely a Universalist. In fact I am a "Universalist, Universalist, Universalist!"

I believe in and experience a God of Love who accepts all and rejects none; is present in all life and yet is greater than the entirety of it all. I also believe that there are many ways to understand and experience this Universal Love; it makes no sense to me to think that there can be only one way. Universalism has given me a code of hopefulness that I can live by. It sustains me through the vicissitudes of life and it connects me to the whole of reality. I have come to believe in what I have come to call Universalist Universalism.

Universalism speaks to my head, my heart and above all my soul. It has enabled me to observe and  fully participate in life, to bare witness to what we do to each other and ourselves. It helps me come to terms with my past and my present and look forward to the future. It helps me connect to the people I have and currently share my life with. It enables to live fully alive.

Universalism is a hope filled faith, but that does not make it an easy path. It is not about sitting back and waiting to be rescued by the God of love it promotes. Instead it declares that salvation, in this life, can only be achieved by facing up to the suffering present in all our lives and dealing directly with the despair that accompanies it. It's also about bringing hope to those in despair and to truly singing the joy of living.

As one of the founding fathers of Universalism, John Murray, so beautifully put it in the eighteenth century

“You may possess only a small light, but uncover it, let it shine, use it in order to bring more light and understanding to the hearts and minds of men and women. Give them not Hell, but hope and courage. Do not push them deeper into their theological despair, but preach the kindness and everlasting love of God.”

John Murray

Whenever I feel despair both with myself or with the rest of humanity, which I do from time to time, I try to remember these words by the Universalist preacher John Murray. I feel a deep connection and purpose in life and through life. In so doing I experience the truth that everything matters, every thought, every feeling, every word and every deed. For love is both eternal and universal.

As we live our lives in this our shared world it is important to remember to widen our views and deepen our experiences, increasing our awareness that all life touches way beyond our horizons, not just directly those that we come into contact with, but with so many others also, often indirectly. In so doing we can welcome the wanderer to find their way back home and we will begin to repair the fragmentations of life and develop deeper intimacy. In so doing may we find our place among the family of things. May we all find ourselves safe and in love and here at home.

Openness: Eyes, hearts, minds & hands

If I have learnt anything about spiritual living I have learnt that the key is openness; the key to spiritual living is to live with open hearts, open minds, open eyes and open hands. These four are spiritual living in practice, which I have come to believe is the true essence of religion. Not creed like religion but truly living breathing practising free religion. True religion, intentional spirituality, should not only bring us to life as individuals but enable us to live truly alive and fully awake in this our shared world.

Unitarian minister James Vila Blake (1842-1925) wrote, "Love is the spirit of this church, and service its law. This is our great covenant: To dwell together in peace, To seek the truth in love, And to help one another." I think in many ways this covenant articulates the essence of what it means to come together in love as a worshipping community. It has been adopted by many Unitarian Universalist and Free Christian communities. It expresses beautifully what it means to live in an open, living breathing spiritual community, what free religion ought to be about.

When I am asked what it means to be a Unitarian, the first word that comes to mind is “openness”. It seems to me that we are an open tradition. Now as I have come to believe the essence of openness is humility, but more about that later.

Openness is very much a doing word. It’s not so much that you are open, more that you live openly. I have come to believe that to do so religiously, is to be open in four ways. It is to live with open eyes, open hearts and open minds and open hands.

Now to live with these four open eyes, open minds, open hearts and open hands is no easy task. In fact to master them is virtually impossible. The key is to begin and to continue; the key is intentional practice.

To live with open eyes is to see the world as it truly is; to see reality as it really is, warts and all and in its beauty spots too; to live with open eyes is to not turn away from the suffering present in life but also to pay attention to life’s beauty too; to live with open eyes is to see the reality of the whole of life. This is not easy, so often we are tempted to turn away. To live fully connected lives we need to live with open eyes, to see life in all its blessings and curses.

To live with an open mind is to be able to search for truth and meaning, while maintaining an awareness of the tension between certainty and curiosity. It is the balance of being receptive to what is new and alien, while at the same time holding onto what is most dear. It is to try to know while in the presence of the unknown and unknowable. This can make others feel uncomfortable and others may try to close an open mind or fill it with their things. To live with an open mind does not mean that we do not discern, that we don’t come to conclusions. Quite the opposite actually. It is vital to come to conclusions, so that one can act in the world. It’s just that after the decision the openness must be maintained, it is never too late to change our minds. The key is to keep our minds open but to be careful with what comes in.

The key to living with a loving and open heart is live with all our senses, including our sixth sense, our soul, open to all the wonders and mystery of life. This too brings its dangers. Living with an open heart exposes us to pain and suffering. You see to truly live with an open heart is to allow ourselves to be touched in the most tender of places. This can hurt sometimes. Remember Cupids arrow had to first of all pierce the flesh before it could penetrate the heart, love hurts. To live with an open heart is to follow the great commandment, it is Agape. It is to love others, no matter who they are what they have done, where they have come from, it is to love without condition. It is to follow the Golden Rule. It is to love our neighbour as we would wish to be loved ourselves. This requires love and compassion for ourselves of course, which can at times be the greatest challenge. It is to feel a deep connection with all that is, all that has been and all that will ever be. It is to recognise that in order to feel this connection requires that we share ourselves. To love is to practise forgiveness, over and over again. Practising living with a loving heart is to live willing to be transformed by what we encounter in our daily lives.

By living with these three open eyes, open minds and open hearts we can then practice living with open hands. Hands that welcome, hands that humbly accept our interconnectedness. Open hands are willing to do what they can do to serve, to play their part in the world. It means committing and recommitting to use our hands, our abilities, in the service of life. With our hands, our actions, we take responsibility for our part in serving life, to create the kin-dom of love right here right now, to create a better world, the beloved community. With open hands, we offer what we have and do what we can.

Our open eyes allow us to recognise where we can act in the world, if our minds and our hearts are open. It is these three that tell our open hands where they are needed.

Open hands though are not just about action, they are also about connection and perhaps more importantly humility. Humility is the key to openness and to my eyes the essence of this my chosen Unitarian faith. I say chosen but I’m not sure if I chose it or it chose me. Who knows?

Now humility is a word that is often misunderstood. To be humble is to be at home in our true humanity, to be grounded in our own reality and shared humanity. The key to humility is to recognise that we are a part of something larger than our singular selves.

Humility is not about being meek and mild and bowing and scraping, it is not about being self-deprecating or denigrating. Too often humility is seen in this way, particularly from a religious perspective, as an excuse for suffering and or meekness. To me this is not true humility; true humility is about living with open hands and doing what we can in the world, we can only do this if we live with open hearts, open minds and open eyes and by recognising our common humanity.

Humility is an interesting word, when understood correctly. It has its roots in the word “humus” which means earth. By the way human and humanity share the very same root, something that Forrest Church often spoke of. In “Bringing God Home: A Traveller’s Guide” he wrote:

“The word human has a telling etymology, my very favourite. All the words that relate to it – humane, humanitarian, humor, humility, humble, and humus – are illuminating. From dust to dust, the mortar of mortality binds us fast to one another. Jews, Christians, and Muslims alike trace their ancestry to the third chapter of the Book of Genesis, where God proclaims to Eve and Adam (whose name means “out of red clay”), “In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground, for out of it wast thou taken; for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.”

Being humble is connected to being grounded. To be truly humble is to recognise our honest place in the world and life in general, whilst recognising that life itself does not revolve around us. Humility is at the core of my understanding of my Unitarian faith, I believe that we are a truly humble faith. Our tradition is open and accepting, we welcome diversity, we honour one another’s points of view. Are these not by their very nature acts of humility? And in doing so are we not accepting that each of us have limits to our own individual perspectives; that we need to be open to one another in order to see new and deeper truths; that we cannot make sense of anything alone. This is free religion in its essence, this coming together and experiencing more than we could have imagined alone, by coming together, in love. We honour and acknowledge that on our own we cannot know everything and that by being open to others who may see and understand things differently we are challenged to expand our understandings, doing so in love and respect and honour these differences. Humility is about rejoicing in the challenge that others who see things differently can reveal to us and therefore expand our understanding.

I feel that so many of our troubles are caused by our inability to be truly open to one another and to new ideas; our troubles are caused by our arrogance and belief that we know best. Therefore by not living openly we fail to understand and therefore empathise with each other and we remain trapped by what we think we know. We are too closed down and we need to open up, to one another, to life and to God. We need to be opened up like the Buddhist Monk, arms out with his begging bowl. An image which as Thomas Merton explained “represents not just a right to beg, but openness to the gifts of all human beings as an expression of this interdependence of all beings...Thus when a monk begs from the layman it is not as a selfish person getting something from someone else. He is simply opening himself to his interdependence.” The key is to live openly and of course the key to openness is humility. No one lives apart from anyone else we are all interdependent. Also none of us knows everything, we all see through the glass dimly.

I remember the first time I heard Forrest Church’s assertion that humility and openness are the two keys to religious living, how much this struck me deep inside. I saw the truth in it. There is limitlessness in openness. Who knows how much we can truly change and learn to love if we just stay open, in our hearts and minds and eyes. Who knows what we can do with our loving hands if we live with truly open eyes, open hearts and open minds.

The key to true spiritual living is openness, to live with open eyes, open hearts open minds and open hands; the key is to live with true humility, to see that we are grounded in our shared humanity; the key is to see that we are a part of something far greater than ourselves and that through recognising this we will know the love present in life and begin to bring that love alive, right here right now.

Every day is a day when we can bear witness to a Power Greater than ourselves. We do this when we love one another with open hands, when we see the world with truly open eyes, when we live with minds that are truly open and hearts open to the love waiting to enter and to be poured out onto our world that really needs it.

I believe it is our task to live truly open lives. This is real spiritual living, this is true religion. I believe it is our task to bring love alive, through our openness. It is our task to allow God to incarnate through our lives. To do so we need to live with open hands.

I'm going to end this little chip of a "blogspot" with a beautiful poem "Accepting This" by Mark Nepo, that a I came across a while back.

"Accepting This" by Mark Nepo

Yes, it is true. I confess,
I have thought great thoughts,
and sung great songs—all of it
rehearsal for the majesty
of being held.

The dream is awakened
when thinking I love you
and life begins
when saying I love you
and joy moves like blood
when embracing others with love.

My efforts now turn
from trying to outrun suffering
to accepting love wherever
I can find it.

Stripped of causes and plans
and things to strive for,
I have discovered everything
I could need or ask for
is right here—
in flawed abundance.

We cannot eliminate hunger,
but we can feed each other.
We cannot eliminate loneliness,
but we can hold each other.
We cannot eliminate pain,
but we can live a life
of compassion.

Ultimately,
we are small living things
awakened in the stream,
not gods who carve out rivers.

Like human fish,
we are asked to experience
meaning in the life that moves
through the gill of our heart.

There is nothing to do
and nowhere to go.
Accepting this,
we can do everything
and go anywhere.

Genius: Nurturing the Kin-dom of Love

“Each of Us Is An Artist” by Arthur Graham

"Each of us is an artist whose task it is to shape life into some semblance of the pattern we dream about. The molding is not of self alone, but of shared tomorrows and times we shall never see. So let us be about our task. The materials are very precious and perishable."

I’ve been reflecting on my experiences of this year’s Annual Meetings of The General Assembly of Unitarian and Free Christian Churches in Great Britain and Ireland (a mouthful I know) and how much I enjoyed it. This surprised me to some extent, as over the last couple of years I have not. Now it maybe just a reflection on where I am at, both with regard to my own personal spirituality and that of the denomination in general or maybe a reflection on the few days I experienced in Birmingham, or perhaps a mixture of both. I suspect that there were many reasons for this and that I will never reach a clear and defined answer. Thank God.

There seemed to be a real sense of togetherness this year and new optimism too. There was also a seeming absence of ego, there was no one trying to run the whole show and orchestrate everything in their image. This was a real blessings. I felt this right from the start, at the minister’s conference. Where I enjoyed some wonderful conversations and was greatly impressed by the new ministers who are coming through. Amongst them is great evidence of spiritual and theological depth. Listening and engaging with them I was touched in those sometimes hard to reach places, right in the soul of me. During one of the evening services titled “Celebrating Our Vision” each of the newly qualified ministers spoke of their own theological and spiritual influences, again I was touched by what they all said, but there was one that stood out and has stayed with me ever since. Kate Whyman who has recently been appointed to serve the congregation at Plymouth quoted a plaque that she saw at the Divinity School at Harvard University where Ralph Waldo Emerson had delivered his now famous “Divinity School Address”. The plaque read “Acquaint Thyself at First Hand with Deity”…Those words have been singing in my soul ever since…

“Acquaint Thyself at First Hand with Deity”

There were many things that amused and touched me throughout the week. One of those was a moment when I was moving from one workshop to go to another. Rev Keith Hill saw me in the corridor and came rushing towards me and said you’ve got to come with me as Melda Grantham, the Secretary of the Welsh Department in a talk on communication, has just been singing your praises and described you as a genius. Well I almost died of shock on the spot, but I went with him. It seems that Melda is very impressed with the way I write and express through personal stories, theology and spirituality, and that I do so in a way that anyone can connect too. She said “That Danny Crosby is a genius”. Well as you can imagine I blushed somewhat at this. Like so many people I still, at times, feel uncomfortable when someone compliments me and shines the light on my better qualities.

That said I have been having a bit of fun with it ever since, especially with friends. I even posted an update on Facebook on Easter Sunday, as I was relaxing having spent some time enjoying the beautiful Easter/Passover moon. It read “It was said last week I am a genius…I didn’t know…What do you reckon?” Some rather interesting comments followed, some lovely and some hilarious and still others a real mixture of both. What was interesting was that a couple of my friends posted definitions of “genius”. The first read:

“ 'A genius is a person who displays exceptional superior intellectual ability, creativity, or originality', so yes.” and the second suggested “that this sounds like another etymological adventure was on the cards” and then quoted the following “In ancient Rome, the genius (plural in Latin genii) was the guiding spirit or tutelary deity of person. The noun is related to the Latin verb genui, genitus, "to bring into being, create, produce"”

To which I responded “I think you may have planted some seeds.” Now this immediately sent my thoughts back to “The Mustard Seed” readings that were shared during this year’s "Anniversary Service" at the "Annual Meetings" I had attended. By the way the service was phenomenal and again highlighted so much that is truly wonderful about our free religious faith.

So I had this seed of genius planted deeply into my soul and I began thinking and exploring this idea, especially bringing that which is within us into being; to bring that seed of Deity within us to bare fruit. Now this of course requires us to first of all become acquainted with it and to lovingly nurture it. Suddenly Kate’s quotation from Emerson began to take on new meaning.

“Acquaint Thyself at First Hand with Deity”

I do believe that there is that of the Divine within each and every one of us and that it is our task, our duty to bring that to life in our very being. It’s just that I had not previously thought of it the same way that my friends and acquaintances were now pointing towards, through the various aspects of the “Creative Interchange”, we and others were unknowingly engaging in.

So once again it would appear that everything that we need is already there deep within us. We do not need to seek the Kingdom of God, the Commonwealth of Love, because it is already here within us and amongst us. We are each and every one of us an aspect of what I heard someone describe recently as “The Kin-dom of Heaven”. Our task, I believe, is to bring it to fruit and bring it together.

You see the real truth is that we are all genius’s, yes I know that you probably feel uncomfortable hearing this, but none the less it is true. We are all born with this essence and we need to bring it to life in our very being, we need to reclaim our true nature and then share it with our world, because it doesn’t belong to us alone and doesn’t truly come alive unless we share it with others.

Now throughout human history this genius within us has been understood in different ways. Many, beginning with Plato, I understand, talked of each of us being born with a companion, what some might describe as a spirit that remembers our true nature and therefore "calling" and which can guide us back to our greatest animation. It is this that truly brings us alive, that animates our very being that enthuses us. This inner spirit animates our soul, this is the genius within each and every one of us. It has been called by many names such as muse, inner voice, still small voice, higher self, guardian angel or what the ancient Greeks referred to as Daemon.

Now the problem of course is that so many of us suppress our inner genius, we do not let it shine, we do not believe that we are “The Light of the World” or perhaps the opposite happens we keep it selfishly for ourselves alone.

Now I witnessed a wonderful example of this on Easter Sunday evening just before I noticed that beautiful Easter moon. It was during a conversation I and others were having while standing outside unknowingly experiencing the light of that said moon. A friend who is both a juggler and a magician began juggling some red balls, he was in total bliss enjoying his gift that he has nurtured over the years. As he was doing so he began to talk about how even in his darkest days he had always enjoyed the company of jugglers, how they were the most loving and accepting community of people he had ever known. How they were happy to share all that they had with anyone and that they were totally devoid of ego. He contrasted this with magicians who he said were the exact opposite, how they were secretive, closed and suspicious of anyone, that they were not welcoming and were full of ego. As he spoke I thought to myself, you are a genius, you have just taught a beautifully deep truth about the last few days of my life. It dawned on me that these are examples of religious communities and actually all human communities. They could well be metaphors for the “Kingdom of Mistrust” or the “Kin-dom of Love”, “the Commonwealth of Love”

I then went and caught my first glimpse of that Easter moon, I spent quite sometime alone gazing lovingly at it.

A couple of days later as I began to piece worship material together for the coming Sunday's service it became clearer to me what our task truly is. It is to bring our genius to life and share and allow it to spread so as to create the "Kin-dom of Heaven", the oneness of humanity, right here right now…it can be done…if we want it…

We each of us have the seed of genius within us. How it got there I am not sure; who or what planted it there, again, I cannot be certain. It is there though, of that I am certain. Our task is to first of all become acquainted with it, to nurture and to bring to life in all that we feel, all that we think, all that we say and all that we do; our task is to share our genius with one another and our world; our task is to become the light of the world.

Easter Sunday revealed to me that our real task is to become joyful and joy filled jugglers rather than those suspicious and miserable magicians. By doing so we will begin to create that “Kin-dom of love” within and amongst us.

A genius is someone who acquaints themselves, first hand, with the Divine seed that was planted within them before they were even born; a genius is someone who nurtures and brings to fruit, harvests and finally shares this generous love with all they meet; a genius is someone who gives birth to the kin-dom of love.

I am going to end this little chip of a blogspot with a prayer from Rev Cliff Reed, from his wonderful new book "Carnival of Lamps"...I trust it will sing in your heart and soul...


“By Many Different Paths”

O God,
the ultimate, the One.
we, who come here by many different paths,
greet you and bow before you.

We were not just placed here on this planet.
We grew with it, out of it,
yet always in its web of life.

We were many things before we were human.
We were many humans before we were
“thinking man”, as we like to call ourselves.

We are the children of more ancestors
than we can imagine, carry the genes
of many things we cannot name.

We are part of this earth, this cosmos,
and we pause in wonder at its majesty.

Somewhere, some time,
creatures came out of all this that could
love and be kind, and recognise in you
the source of love and kindness.

Who were the first we don’t know,
and never can, but we would be like them.

May it be so.

Looking for like hearted people

In Bringing God Home: A Traveler's Guide" Forrest Church wrote

"Universalism is an exacting gospel. Taken seriously, no theology is more challenging-morally, spiritually, or intellectually: to love your enemy as yourself; to see your tears in another's eyes; to respect and even embrace otherness, rather than merely to tolerate or, even worse, dismiss it. None of this comes naturally to us. We are weaned on the rational presumption that if two people disagree, only one can be right. This works better in mathematics than it does in theology; Universalism reminds us of that. Yet even to approximate the Universalist ideal remains devilishly difficult in actual practice. Given the natural human tendency toward division, Universalists run the constant temptation to backslide in their faith. One can lapse and become a bad or lazy Universalist as effortlessly as others become ice-cream social Presbyterians or nominal Catholics."

It got me thinking about my own ministry...Do I backslide in my own faith?

I recently spent a weekend away with a group of what some might call “like minded” friends at Great Hucklow. I almost didn’t go as I was recovering from gastric flu and I certainly wasn’t my usual vibrant self. I must have been bad as I couldn’t stomach the marvellous cooked breakfast on offer there.

Over the weekend we explored prayer and meditation and ways in which we might enhance our personal spiritual lives. It was based around the 11th Step of Alcoholics Anonymous "Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out." It was wonderful to engage with different people, from all kinds of back grounds and differing spiritual beliefs. People who when they spoke of God, or a power greater than themselves, did not necessarily mean exactly the same thing. I didn’t do as much talking as I normally would at such events and spent most of the weekend just loving the company of these people and listening. Of course I did chime in from time to time, but mainly I listened.

Now one phrase I kept on hearing over the first evening was “Oh it’s so lovely to be with like-minded people”. I heard it from several people. I remember as I listened I thought I’m not sure that we are like-minded, we certainly don’t think about things in exactly the same way. I then thought I am not sure I would want to spend my time with like-minded people, people who thought just like me. They would drive me mad and no doubt bore me to death.

And then it dawned on me. While we may not be like-minded people we are certainly like-hearted. We may not think in the same way, but I suspect that we feel in the same way and we certainly seem to be searching for that same sense of connection and oneness. There was a true sense of unity in the group. We truly were there lovingly supporting and listening to one another, holding differing views about faith and God and spiritual practise but yet united in a common bond and search.

I think this is what I’ve been searching for all my life, not the horror of like-minded people, but the beauty of like hearted folk. It truly was heavenly and it lifted me out of myself and my worries about my physical well-being.

As I drove home in silence enjoying a beautiful winter scene a phrase entered my heart and rose up to my mind “You need not think alike to love alike”. It is a well-known phrase in Unitarian circles and it is certainly something that we aspire toward. Of course we all fall short of this ideal. It has been attributed to Francis David who is seen as the father of established Unitarianism and was the spiritual advisor to King John Sigismund of Transylvanin, the Unitarian king who pronounced an act of religious toleration the Edit of Torda in 1568.

Now while “We need not think alike to love alike” is a beautiful sentiment and certainly fits in with the principles of religious toleration, it would appear that there is no real evidence that Francis David ever actually uttered the words. There are arguments as to the original source some claim it was the non-Trinitarian martyr Michael Servetus where as others suggest it was more likely the father of Methodism JohnWesley, who asked in a sermon on “Catholic Spirit,” “Though we cannot think alike, may we not love alike?”

Now personally I do not think it matters who first uttered the words. What matters is the meaning behind them and what has grown and developed from them. What matters to me is the spiritual depth at the core of these simple words. “We need not think alike to love alike.” Or to put it another way we need not be like minded to be like hearted. To me this is essence of the free religious faith that I have chosen to belong to. We are none creedal we do not declare a statement of faith and yet we are held together by a sense of love and understanding.

We are more than just a pluralistic movement at our best we uphold those ideals of universalism that Forrest Church spoke at the beginning of this blog. That said these are not easy ideals to live up to. They used to say “Reason, Freedom and Tolerance” but as Rev Stephen Lingwood has said this is not enough. To quote him:

“Love” Stephen Lingwood from “The Unitarian Life: Voices from the Past and Present

Freedom, reason, tolerance and pluralism aren’t enough, not on their own. We need a message to give to people, good News to preach. What good News can Unitarians give to the world? Just this: Love. A Holy Love that transforms, that is powerful and prophetic and justice-seeking. This message has always been at the heart of our faith: from Francis David, who said “you need not think alike to love alike”, to the Universalists who knew that nothing will ever separate anyone from the love of God, even today when Unitarians work to support the rights of gay couples because we know that love is always a blessing, regardless of gender.

Of course this is an ideal and certainly not an easy one to live up to. We can rationally think, believe, in ways that uphold “Freedom, reason, tolerance and pluralism” but to truly love and radically accept someone who appears different can be much harder. This involves the heart and a fully exposed and open one at that. In some ways it requires a vulnerable heart and that aint easy. What if they hurt us?

My ministerial mantra is “Come as you, exactly as you are…but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition” This is an invitation to all, whether they’ve been here for ever or have just walked through the door. It is also an invitation to myself, because I know this aint easy. And just like everyone else I need to keep on leaving in a new condition.

One thing I love about the "Living the Questions" group I host is that increasingly over time people are coming as they, exploring with one another openly. They seem to be listening to one another too. Each time we meet this experience seems to grow. I witness true spiritual intimacy amongst this diverse group of people who are most certainly not like minded, but are increasingly like hearted. Each time we meet, we seem to leave in a slightly different condition, whatever subject we explore. People truly are coming as they, exactly as they are, wherever they are coming from.

It is hard to come as you truly are, to be who you truly are. Most folk fear that they will be rejected for being as they truly are, if they let others see the real them. No doubt it happens to every single one of us at one time or another. It is hard to say this is who I am, will you still love me and accept me anyway. Well actually maybe here in lays part of the problem. By saying this is who I am are we really showing who we are in a truly open sense. I actually think when we make such statements a barrier is already being formed without us even realising it. Surely it is better to show who we really are and this is about the heart more than the mind, this is about love rather than belief or disbelief, this is about deeds rather than creeds.

This brings to mind something I heard from a stand-up comedian many years ago. Now he never became famous and I used to see him wandering around the Fallowfield area of Manchester where I lived. He always looked like a bit of a loner, a little bit lost. He wasn’t even particularly funny, but something he said really stuck with me. Now it turns out he was gay and he talked about coming out to his mates about this and how he was full of fear initially but it went ok and they accepted him as he was, with just a bit of laddish humour. He then went on to talk about how he loved football, which was strange for a man originally from Hull. It’s a rugby town and Hull were not a big club then. Now I can’t tell the joke but the basic punchline was this he said it was much harder for him to come out to his hip cool, arty and gay friends and companions that he loved football and loved all that went with it than it was to come out to the football crowd that he was gay. He said these friends found it harder to accept his love of football, than for his football friends to accept him as a gay man.

As he told the tale I saw the sadness and the alienation in him, this sense that he didn’t quite belong. Every time I saw him wandering around, always alone I kind of sensed that feeling grow. Maybe I identified with him in some ways as for a lot of my life I felt this sense of alienation too. Maybe we all do, maybe everyone feels this sense that they don’t truly belong from time to time. Maybe it’s tough to come as we are, exactly as we are…maybe when we come we don’t expect to change either, maybe we think we will always leave in exactly the same condition.

My hope is that when people enter into the communities I serve that they feel that they can be who they are, exactly as they are. Warts and all and beauty spots too. I hope they find amongst us loving companionship and space to search and explore and open their hearts, minds and souls to something beyond the confines of themselves. I hope when they come, even if it is in despair, that when they leave they do so with a deeper sense of belonging and do not feel alone. I hope they find amongst us communities of like hearted, if not like-minded people.

For we may not think alike, but it is certainly our intention to love alike.

I am going to end this little chip of a blogspot with the following...

“One Love” by Hope Johnson


We are one,

A diverse group

Of proudly kindred spirits

Here, not by coincidence –

But because we choose to journey – together.



We are active and proactive

We care, deeply

We live our love, as best we can.

We ARE one

Working, Eating, Laughing,

Playing, Singing, Storytelling, Sharing and Rejoicing.

Getting to know each other.

Taking risks

Opening up.

Questioning, Seeking, Searching…

Trying to understand…

Struggling…

Making Mistakes

Paying Attention…

Asking Questions

Listening…

Living our Answers

Learning to love our neighbours

Learning to love ourselves.


Apologizing and forgiving with humility

Being forgiven, through Grace.


Creating the Beloved Community – Together We are ONE.

Love and Service

Last Sunday afternoon I attended the memorial service of Rev Jane Barraclough at Cross Street chapel, Manchester. Jane was both a colleague and a personal friend of mine. Many things were said of Jane during the service but what stood out for me above everything else was one comment made by the chair of Portico library. She said "that Jane believed in God and believed in humanity" and that it was these two things that informed who she was as a minister and person. When I look at all that she was and how she ministered I can see the absolute truth in this. Now although I did not always come to the same conclusions as Jane, do any of us ever do this? My faith too rests on these two same things. I believe in God and I believe in humanity. I haven’t always, I have lost faith in both at times, for long periods of my life, if truth be told I often find today that when I begin to lose faith in either I begin to lose faith in the other.

When I look at Jane as a minister I see clearly that she lived by these two principles of faith, I wonder sometimes if I do…I wonder sometimes if I do…I wonder sometimes if my works, live up to my professed faith. Generally they do, my deeds profess my belief in a loving God and in this love being present in humanity, including little old me. That said from time to time that faith can waver.

Last Monday I attended the funeral service of Eila Forrester at King Edward Street Unitarian Chapel, Macclesfield. I had got to know Eila during my time as a student on placement there. We had many wonderful conversations in which she passed on much of her knowledge to me. I remember when I qualified back on 2010 Eila asked me “Now I hope you have remembered everything I have taught you” I remember I smiled at the time. I smiled during the service as this memory came back to me.

It was a beautifully moving service in which many people reflected on Eila’s life and the contribution she had made to the Unitarian tradition over her life time. Of all the things that were said what stood out for me was that she always emphasised the primacy of worship. That worship is and must always remain central to everything that Unitarians do. That without it we could not describe ourselves as religious denomination in any way or sense. As I sat there and listened to many people speak of this remarkable and loving small framed but big hearted, highly educated and thoughtful woman it helped me to once again see clearly what I believe faith is about.

Now please do not misunderstand Eila was not suggesting that we my chosen faith is merely about worship and not about the wider the world. Quite the opposite actually. I know that she believed that it is through worship and taking care of our individual as well as corporate spiritual needs that we are then better able to carry out this faith in this beautiful world of ours.

These thoughts brought me back to the anniversary service led by Rev David Usher at our denomination's annual general meetings. It was a beautiful and moving service that certainly spoke to my spirit. He spoke of many things but one aspect that really stood out for me was a reference he made to words written at the entrance of Richmond Unitarian Church. The plaque there reads “Dedicated to the worship of God and the service of man”. The point he was trying to make was that at times we have lost sight of this aspect of tradition in our wish to just say to people you can believe what you like without any commitment to wider humanity. David was not saying that we all have be theists, more that our faith ought to inform how we live in the world. That as a denomination we have a duty to the wider world. That our spirituality is not just about serving ourselves that it ought to show in our deeds. Or to put it another way "Faith without works is dead."

“Faith without works is dead” These words from the book of James chapter 2 vv 14-20 have for many years struck me powerfully. I wonder how many times I have professed belief or even disbelief in something, but my actions have shown otherwise; while today I profess a belief in God and humanity sometime my actions prove otherwise. I fall short every day.

This brings to mind a story that has stayed with me since childhood. As a small boy I had a fascination with tight rope walkers and other daredevils. I think this might stem from the fact that I was utterly useless at such things and would marvel at the ability of others. I loved Evel Knievel and remember clearly watching “Trapeze” starring Burt Lancaster and being entranced by it. Oh how I wish I could have been a daredevil, but my body always lacked the co-ordination and balance.

I also clearly remember a school assembly when I was only about 9 or 10, it was based around “faith and works”, it’s amazing how many of these stories have stayed with me more than 30 years later.

In it the teacher told the story of Charles Blondin who had been invited to travel all the way from his native France to the Niagra Falls and attempt to walk across on a tightrope. The tightrope stretched over a quarter of a mile. People came from all over North America to see this feat. It was no great obstacle to Blondin who walked across several times, each attempt was more daring than the last, as the ever growing crowd oohed and aarh’d. On one occasion he carried a sack of potatoes, on another he crossed on stilts, on another he rode a bicycle and on another crossed blindfolded. On one occasion he even carried a small stove and cooked an omelette when he arrived at the middle.

On one occasion, while pushing a wheelbarrow across, he stopped and addressed the cheering audience and asked them “Do you believe I can carry a person across in this wheelbarrow”

To which the crowd enthusiastically yelled back “Yes! We believe in you Blondin, you are the greatest!”

To which Blondin replied “Okay, so who wants to get in the wheelbarrow?”

It seems that no one did, well no one except his manager, who he successfully carried across.

So it seems that despite what they claimed the crowd who had observed his many feats did not truly believe in Blondin, only his manager did. The crowd professed their belief, but he showed it with his actions.

Whatever it is that we claim to believe in, or not believe in for that matter it can only be proved by our actions.

What exactly is meant by works? Well I have sometimes heard it described as service. But what exactly is service? Well it can mean many things. I have come to believe that worship itself is a form of service. I do afterall call what I lead on a Sunday morning a service of worship. When people congregate together as a worshipping community they are doing so in service; service to themselves, to one another, to God and to humanity.

Worship is central to any spiritual community, but its purpose is to impact on the lives of those participating in it so that they can impact positively on the lives of those in the wider world. While we may not be able to change the whole world we can affect it in small and I believe positive ways. I strongly believe by being all that we can be in the world we do indeed change our world while not at the same time destroying it by imposing our wants and needs on it. By doing so we grow in spirit ourselves and we pave the way for others to do the same.

In classic Christian theology one sign that salvation had been attained was that it showed in your service to others. This I believe is the point that James was making.

What do our actions say about us? Do we show love for God and humanity in the way we live our lives?

Sometimes I fall short...

In Sanskrit the word for selfless service or work performed without thought of reward was “Seva” In ancient India it was believed that it aided an individual’s spiritual growth and at the same time contributed to the improvement of the whole community. Seva is the art of giving without expecting to receive individually, as all benefit from it. Seva is the art of blessed action.

Seva is about saying yes to life. It is about seeing how small acts can and do change our world and that this begins in our own hearts and minds, it is this that feeds our very actions. It is about recognising how we are all interconnected, all one. That what we do and do not do matters and affects all. By helping ourselves and or another all are aided and improved. Life has revealed to me that even a simple act of worship can affect our world in small ways, if it engaged in with openness and love.

Last Sunday and Monday I both worshipped and remembered as I listened to people speak of the lives of two Unitarians who lived their faith; their faith showed in their actions in their service for their wider human community. I feel that as a result my own faith has been enhanced, faith in God and faith in humanity. I see more clearly that this tradition I am a part of is a simple faith based on love and service and not just freedom to believe as our conscious dictates. That I am a part of a bound community held together by shared values. A community that is here to be of service to one another and to our wider world. and this service begins in time together, in sacred space and at our sacred times as we worship together.

These last few days have shown me more clearly the simplicity of my chosen faith, its about the Love of God and the service of humanity. I hope I can show this clearly in my deeds and that I can better live my belief in God and my belief in humanity.

It's not easy being Unitarian, but it's worth it.

To be a Unitarian is both a blessing and a curse. By the way I'm not just talking about denominational politics here. No what I mean by this is that to be a Unitarian religiously is not easy. To believe in and follow the Unitarian religious ethos is not the easier softer option. Far from it!

As Burdette Backus said "We sometimes hear it said by some of our own members that you can believe whatever you please. Actually we are confronted with a paradox; we are not free to believe what we please, we are free to believe what we must."

Yes we do believe that everyone has the right to seek truth and meaning for themselves and that each individual’s life experience and their reflections upon these experiences must form their own understanding of their own truth. Our communities accept people as they are warts and all and beauty spots too. That said to truly call yourself a Unitarian is not just to believe whatever you like. We as individuals must stand by what we believe. Reason and rationality are as much cornerstones of our tradition as are freedom and tolerance.

So where does this leave us with regard to ethical issues? That impact on all of us and the society in which we live. How do we as individuals and religious communities come to conclusions about these things? After all we do not have Creeds, or Bishops. No one has authority over anyone else in our communities. Not even ministers. As a minister I am granted the freedom of the pulpit, I create worship as my conscience dictates  but if the congregations I serve find my ministry unpalatable they have the freedom to reject it.

The Unitarian tradition is non-creedal, we do not have statements of belief that congregational members must adhere to. We come from a variety of religious beliefs and doubts. Some have rejected the whole concept of religion in a traditional sense . I am happy to use the word religious, others prefer spiritual and they are free to do so. For me to live religiously does not mean the same as conforming and following the rules of a specific belief system, instead it’s about living in community with others who may see the world differently and it’s also about how I live out my spirituality.

Unitarians reach our conclusions by searching our own lives and our own individual spiritual insights and we discuss what we have unearthed in open dialogue. We learn form one another and we experience together. To me this is true religion, free religion.  One does not have to think alike to love alike, as our heritage has proven.

It is not easy being a Unitarian, but then who ever claimed that life was meant to be that way. That said it can be incredibly rewarding because to me it's the only way I've found that can reveal what I would describe as acceptable truth.

My Story

Below is the a piece for the National Unitarian Fellowship's "Viewpoint" Issue 224. I thought I add it to my blog for those who do not receive "Viewpoint"...

I did not have a particularly religious upbringing. As a teenager I cannot claim to have been anti-religious either, I just didn’t see its relevance. I have always been interested in ideas, religious ones being one of many. That said from the age of 11, until my late twenties, I was more interested in political and perhaps philosophical ideas than anything else. Religion just seemed old hat, something from the past.

I grew up in the village of Birstall, in West Yorkshire. In the market square is a statue of Joseph Priestley. Priestley is one of the two founding fathers of British Unitarianism. He was also a major figure in its development in America. I attended the same school that he did, Batley Grammar. Of course we all knew about him but as a scientist, but not as a radical minister of religion. I never once remember any mention of this, as we were growing up. Although perhaps it was mentioned and the reason that it failed to register with me was because I just was not interested. We knew of Priestley the scientist, the man who discovered oxygen and invented soda water...or as we would often say “The man who invented oxygen”.

Throughout most of my life I had very little interest in religion. I was an agnostic who was verging on atheism, although I never quite took the leap of absolute disbelief. My late teens and early twenties were a mixture of hedonism, dark music and left wing politics. I was in a band and we thought we were going to change the world, oh the arrogance of youth. Meanwhile I worked in the civil service. In my mid twenties I came to Manchester and gained a degree in Politics and Modern History and soon after started work as a free-lance historian. It was during this time that Mr Priestley reared his head once again, due to his political radicalism. I hasten to add that even then I paid no attention to his religion.

This all began to change between the years 2002 and 2004 as things changed within me and my experiences of life external to me. This was brought on by my acceptance of and recovery from alcoholism. It was around this time that I began to experience what I know today as God. I had a life changing spiritual experience, I can think of no better way of describing what happened. As a result I began to explore different religions and spiritual groups. I discovered Unitarianism, almost by accident really, but became immediately interested. I soon discovered that there were congregations locally and after a bit more research I began attending Cross Street Chapel, in Manchester.

I can still remember the first service I attended, led by Rev John Midgley, it spoke powerfully to me. I also remember the warmth of the greeting that the handful of folk in attendance extended to me. I can still feel Peter Sampson's handshake as he passed me the hymn book, and gently spoke to me.

I enjoyed every aspect of congregational life; getting to know people first within the congregation and eventually further afield. I spent months bending John’s ear about everything, as I did with most people. I joined the choir and an R.E. group and just became part of the place. I felt cared for, I felt loved and I felt welcomed.

Hospitality has to be the key to true religion, in practice. One of my favourite hymns is “All Are Welcome Here” it reads “All are welcome here...all are welcome to seek in spite of fear...to open wide to all our hearts...for all are welcome here.” To me this is the whole point of religion, to build communities of love that encourage that search for understanding and meaning, that search beyond the confines of our limited individual selves. I have certainly found that to be true of my chosen Unitarian faith, at its best at least; it encourages each of us as individuals to continue that search but to do so together, unconstrained. I felt welcomed and I was listened to during my time at Cross Street. I found a religious community where I could be myself, but not in isolation; I am certain I would not, could not have discovered so much alone. I did not realise then just how much I would need that community...

I was at work on Thursday morning, November 2nd 2006 to be precise, when I received a phone call from my dearest friend Claire. She told me her son Ethan had been killed on his way to school. I immediately left and went to Manchester Royal Infirmary. I loved Claire and Ethan more than anybody in the world, but today is not a time to talk about that. John my minister came to the hospital to be with us and the family and held us in prayer over Ethan’s broken little body. He was there for us over the next few months. I will never forget all that he did.

I left the hospital later that day and felt utterly alone and lost. Claire had gone with her family and Luke (Ethan’s dad) had gone with his family. John also had to go. So what did I do? Well the first thing I did was pray. That was not enough though I needed to be with people. So I rang up some of the Cross Street folk. Well several of them just happened to be up at our Oldham Chapel, I made my way there and spent the rest of the day with these people. They listened to me, fed me and looked after me. This continued over the next months and year really as I came to terms with everything, while attempting to be there for Claire. The people of my community were able to be there, in an unobtrusive manner while I came to terms with the horrors of all that had happened. I took some time off work and spent a lot of time with these different people. They loved me when I really needed it. I do not believe I would have come through it on my own. I am sure I would have survived I am just not so sure I would have done so without hardening my heart. They helped me keep my heart open.

It was coming to terms with all of this that drew me into ministry. I wanted to be part of and to attempt to build a community of loving compassion, of true hospitality that attempts to hold people and allow them to be who they really are in every aspect of life. At least that was and is my ambition.

I have now been with the good folk of Altrincham and Urmston for two years now and I feel that we have got to know one another quite well. From the outset I made it a priority of mine to spend time talking, but above all else listening, to them. During the worship we have shared I have encouraged openness by allowing them to get to know me. Worship for me must always be speak the language of the heart and not just feed the intellect. This may well have been a challenge for some folk, but was a deliberate decision on my part in an attempt to give those present permission to be open with me. I have pretty much spent time with everyone connected with both congregations, visiting them in their own homes and talking with them about many things. This has been a real treasure to me, personally. We have some real gems hidden away in our congregations. I cannot begin to express how deeply moved I have been by what people have shared with me. Virtually every conversation has been littered with moving stories of love, of pain, of grief and of faith. I have heard some of the most incredible tales of personal spiritual experience, something I have interest in. I have rarely left someone’s home without feeling that my life has been enhanced by the time we have just shared. I have felt welcomed into the lives of the people within both communities and for that I am profoundly grateful.

“Listen with the ear of your heart”, has become one of my mantras over the last few months. It comes from “The Rule of Benedict” a set of ancient principles for monastic orders, followed by many Christian and some Buddhist communities today. The foundation of the rule is listening, deep attentive listening. It begins, “listen carefully, my child, to the instructions...and attend to them with the ear of your heart “. What is required is deep listening, a concept proposed, in contemporary times, by the Dalai Lama.

This has become the foundation of my ministry, to “listen with the ear of my heart” and to encourage that in others. Of course I often fall short of this mark as I get wrapped up in many things, some important but many trivial. That is ok though, one of my other mantras is “progress not perfection”.

The reason I came into ministry is to keep open my own heart and to encourage others to do likewise.

Unitarian College Manchester recently asked me to answer the following question, in just a couple of sentences.

“What aspect(s) of your training or time at UCM has made the most significant or positive contribution to your work as a Unitarian minister?”

A difficult question and this is what I finally came up with.

“For me it has been about finding and refinding my voice. This happened throughout my training, where I continually found myself forming and reforming, while discovering ways to articulate this. This was difficult at times, but I know it has shaped me for the better."

My journey into ministry has been about finding and refinding my voice.

I now look back fondly on my early days of training, but at the time it was a struggle. I was thrown into several unfamiliar environments, while at the same time I had lost the security of my home congregation at Cross Street. The first few months were very painful as I struggled with my identity. I felt quite exposed and vulnerable at times. Everything I said and did seemed to be under scrutiny. It was tough, but then again so it should be. Thank God for prayer. It held me and it sustained me throughout this period, has it has for many years.

I had to go through this in order to discover and rediscover who I was. I had to examine and re-examine my faith and learn to articulate it. I also had to really listen to what others were saying, to know where they were coming from, to respect them as they were and to learn how to communicate with them. I had to find ways to walk in their shoes, while still remaining true to me.

The first few months were the most challenging, but by the Christmas of my first year things began to change. I found my voice. I was able to be myself and was able to begin to communicate this to others with more confidence. I felt increasingly at ease and less nervous and was able to speak my truth in love. I became less defensive and precious about my personal religious convictions. Put simply I began to loosen up. I found my voice.

The Unitarian tradition lays great emphasis on the word and the preaching of it. Ok today we may not place authority at the door of scripture, this has been replaced by the conscience of the individual. That said the preached word, articulated correctly is still central to our worship. Is this though the most important element?

Many people can speak well and articulately. I myself have had some training, but I know I will never be perfect and absolutely clear. I do not wish to be. I need to remain true to who I am, to speak my truth in love and in a language that hopefully others will understand. To truly minister people need to hear what my heart and soul has to say. I need to speak the language of the heart, but not from someone else’s book of life and experiences. No! These experiences must come from my own; otherwise how can I expect others to relate to what I have to say.

I hope that by continually finding my voice I am able to encourage others to do likewise and that they in turn continue to speak their truth in love. Isn’t that what ministry is all about?

Although I am a Unitarian minister I find myself being increasingly drawn to Universalism, in both its traditional and modern incarnations. I have fallen in love with the writing of Forrest Church. His “Cathedral of the World” metaphor speaks powerfully to me about how we experience the Divine.

Forrest asks us to imagine the whole of humanity standing under the ceiling of the cathedral of the world. Around this cathedral are millions of stained glass windows. There is a light outside of the cathedral shinning through all of the windows; this is the light of truth, the light of God. No one inside is able to stare at the light directly, we all see it passing through a stained glass window. Each of the windows distorts the light in some way; they only allow some of the light to pass through. Sometimes the light is refracted, by the tinted windows and occasionally it is blocked by the opaque aspects of each window. In some places the light is almost completely obscured.

This metaphor is an attempt to describe a 21st century Universalist theology, one that speaks powerfully to me. There is one light outside of the window but there are many windows through which we can get a glimpse of the light. Each window is unique in its own way; each window is different; but none gives us a perfect image of the light. Each window is representing different religions, different ideologies, different philosophies, different dogmas, different views about life, the universe, everything. The key is to understand that each window has been fashioned by human hands, often with great skill, imagination, beauty, intelligence and artfulness that said through no one window is the light seen perfectly.

From where we view our particular perspective on the light we can begin to believe that what we see is the absolute truth and that the light only shines through our window. That only our window offers the true representation of the light. That what others see through their window is false, even stupid and irrational. Forrest Church’s Universalism though is saying something very different. He is saying that each window conveys part of the truth and that no one window has a monopoly on the truth. He is echoing the words of the great twentieth century liberal theologian Paul Tillich who said “That which reveals also hides”.

I think it is important to accept that none of us ever glimpses the whole truth, no matter which window we are looking through. What is required is humility; genuine humility that teaches that we humans cannot know and understand everything. This is a good thing, because by genuinely accepting this we are opened up to a myriad of possibility that we probably believed were way beyond our capacity to experience.

The epistle Paul hints at this in his letter to the Corinthians (1ch 13), those beautiful words on love and charity. Here Paul gets to the very nature of humility when he says, “for now we see through a glass darkly”. He is making the point that even when our knowledge and understanding is not perfect, which I suspect, it never can be, we cannot go wrong if we follow love and charity as a guide. Love and charity are universal principles shinning through virtually every one of the windows that the light is pouring through, it seems that the only ones not preaching it are the ones who are trying to throw rocks through the windows that others experience the light through.

The light of Universalism continues to speak powerfully to me. The concept of one light and many windows that my great hero Forrest Church spoke so beautifully about, keeps me humble and therefore open. I accept that I will never know the absolute truth about everything or even anything and that this enables me to experience life in a way I could never have imagined. The one light of God or truth is reflected through a variety of windows, which none of us can see directly or perfectly.

Universalism’s message of hope, of the everlasting love of God, also speaks to me. It brings Psalm 139 powerfully to the fore of my thinking, nothing and no one is beyond the reach of this eternal love. The dark and the light are both the same to this eternal love. We cannot escape it completely; we cannot flee from the range and reach of this eternal and universal love.

It is so easy to look at our world and just despair and give in and say we are doomed and lost in our own darkness. It is so easy to see life this way. Is this true though are we lost in despair? Is there no hope?

Tom Owen-Towle’s “The Gospel of Universalism: Hope, Courage and the Love of God” has helped me to understand that hope and despair share the same root, that they are joined together like Siamese twins. In the French language they share the same linguistic root; hope (espair) and despair (desespair).

To live in hope, to live in faith that we all have that light etched into our DNA, is not to deny life’s difficulties and pain. Instead it is to see the realities of who and what we are and what our true potential can be, if we just nurture it correctly. All we have to do is let that light shine that is there within us all. This sounds simple, but it is far from easy. It requires consistent effort to allow that natural compassion to grow, develop and nurture. We have to do it though because otherwise the other parts of ourselves take over and we turn with indifference from life. The opposite of hope is not despair, it is indifference.

Last Autumn I was invited to participate in the 16thanniversary celebration of the Unitarian church of Maros St George, which is linked to Dunham road Unitarian Chapel Altrincham. During my visit there were three moments that touched my heart, which I would like to share with you here.

The first moment came towards the end of a day visiting several Unitarian communities in the region. It was in a small village called Icland - there is no other settlement in region whose name ends in land, the story goes that it was originally settled by people from Ireland or England – I walked up the hill towards the parish house and settled into a little schoolroom with a few adults and two teenage girls. For some reason images of Thomas Hardy novels came to mind as my eyes passed over the scene, none of the houses had running water, everyone had a well. The minister led a short religious education class; I was deeply moved by the conversation which followed, translated by my co-host Anna Maria. They talked about their struggles with the current economic climate and the importance of letting go of control and not becoming blocked off from God. The words of the serenity prayer came to my mind “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and wisdom to know the difference” – if only we could all find the wisdom the know the difference. I was able to participate in the conversation; we spoke deep into one another's hearts. I left these people with the thought that I will probably never see them again, but also knowing that this dialogue would be etched on my soul for a long time to come. During the discussion I had I felt the presence of the spirit that I call God powerfully. I can picture the woman Elizabeth in my mind’s eye as she talked openly and eloquently of her struggles with life and faith...I had ears that could hear the language that she spoke, the language of the heart.

The next day we visited Tirgu Mures looking at local sites and spent some time in the Cultural Palace. I had noticed that I had struggled a little due to lack of space; I am someone who is use to a lot of time and space alone. I live a very busy life but do connect and reconnect alone, throughout the day. I could feel that I was missing this. I was able to sit quietly in the cultural palace, in the main auditorium. I looked up at the ceiling, which was incredible, and the space below in silence. After a while I began to hear the sounds of an orchestra and choir practising. I began to feel the beauty of the place and in the space and quietness I felt some barriers drop...it opened my heart and I was then able to connect to the heart of the place throughout the rest of the day...I can feel the gentle music now, it was barely a sound but something more than silence.

On the Saturday I was invited to preach and participate in Maros St George's anniversary service. Press had been invited. There was apparently a great deal of talk about mine and Carolyn’s visit. By now I was feeling a part of everything. I had got a real feel for the spirit of the place. It was beginning to really speak to me. I had learnt an important phrase for the Transylvanian’s this is Isten Aldjo, which means God bless. It is both a greeting and a farewell. I decided as people arrived I would greet them at the door, with these words. I was told afterwards that they thought that they had been greeted by a Hungarian and not an Englishman, as I spoke like a Hungarian. This meant a lot to me as I felt that I had now got truly into the spirit of the place. It was wonderful to participate in the service, to sing hymns in Hungarian and to be invited to preach, with Tamas, the minister, translating. I opened up my heart and I felt their love too. I also felt and witnessed the spirit that I know as God, flowing through all of this...less than a whisper, but somehow more than silence.

It was a wonderful and wonder filled trip, one I will reflect on for a long time to come. The language of the heart is a universal language that can break through any barrier, even fear and self protection. All that it requires is a little bit of faith and a whole lotta love; all that is required are ears that can listen and wisdom to know the difference...I’ve had a wonderful reminder of this during my time with Unitarian brothers and sisters in Transylvania.

It still amazes me how I am constantly discovering meaning, seemingly from nothing.

A few months ago Rev Jane Barraclough asked me to lead the Wednesday lunchtime service at Cross Street Chapel, seemingly no meaning there. A few days before the service it dawned on me that it was exactly seven years ago to the day that I had first entered Cross street chapel on a cold Wednesday lunchtime. Just a beautiful bit of synchronicity, or at least I saw it that way.

It was a wonderful and wonder filled day that seemed so rich in meaning. I loved listening to the little conversations on the tram on my way to Manchester. I enjoyed my walk around the city, watching all the people going about their business. I felt so connected, so in harmony with what was going on. Every snippet of conversation I overheard seemed to be addressed directly to me.

After the service I met a friend for coffee and shared what I’d been experiencing. I told her how I felt so excited and alive and that I seemed to be seeing meaning in everything. She looked at me and said “really, I see little meaning in anything; I’m pretty much sceptical about everything.” It made me pause and it also reminded me of the man I was just a few years ago. I saw little meaning in anything; I was pretty much sceptical about everything.

The conversation has been on my mind ever since. I saw no meaning because I was asleep to meaning it would seem. I was suffering from a kind of colour blindness and tone deafness. Something inside was locked in and therefore I could not experience all that I can today and as a result I denied the possibility that there could be a deeper richer meaning. My rational reflection on my experiences back then revealed nothingness and yet my rational reflections, on my current experiences, reveal a life that is rich in meaning. I hear music where I could not before; I see a myriad of colour that in the past was only grey; I experience that under lying meaning that was just an empty void in the past.

But what is meaning? And can it be discovered in what many see as the emptiness of life?

In “Man’s Search For Meaning” Viktor Frankl gives an account of his struggle to hold on to meaning while imprisoned in the Nazi death camps of the Second World War. He lost most of his family and friends in the camps and yet he never lost hope in humanity.

Frankl saw a spiritual dimension to human lives that went beyond the biological and psychological. He observed that the suppression of this transcendental quality was the root cause of our human malady. While imprisoned he developed what he named as “Logotherapy”. He believed that if we could unlock our “unconscious religiousness”, that we would liberate the spiritual dimensions of our lives and that this would enable us to recover the capacity to choose those values which give our lives worth and meaning.

Frankl claimed that meaning is discovered through creative and worthwhile activities and that even in the most horrific and terrifyingly hopeless situations we still have the capacity to choose our attitude towards whatever circumstances we are faced with. It is our response to life’s events that shapes our souls. As he himself said “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms – to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.”

I recently went to see the performance poet “Rodney Chris Paradox” during the show he told the story “Mr Pain”, which described a journey he had been on in search of meaning. It took him all over the world and came to an end in Mexico where he had an accident which led to him having half a leg amputated.

The poem describes how he developed immunity to pain killers. He is assigned a “pain team” who try every form of western medicine to fight off the excruciating agony, every attempt failed. He then called upon all he had learnt from all the eastern traditions, which again failed. Finally he screams out to God and enters the emptiness. Here in this place of nothingness he surrenders to the pain and accepts his lot. In this moment he was liberated from the agony, it no longer seemed to matter. By surrendering to it, it lost its power.

Everyone suffers pain in their lives and often there seems no justifiable reason for it. It just seems so unfair. None of us gets to choose our pain and suffering and none of us can avoid it. That said we can choose how we respond to it and pass those lessons on to one another. No one can take that away from us. It is perhaps our one and only true freedom. How we respond to life’s circumstances.

I have discovered that the real meaning in life emerges by trying to help others find meaning in their lives. This is why I became a minister of religion.

As a student minister I spent a year at our chapel in Oldham. Outside the chapel is a sign. It reads, “open to all who wish to worship with an open mind, in a spirit of freedom, reason and tolerance. We do not hold the same beliefs; rather each person is encouraged to develop his or her faith in a continuing search for truth.”

The Unitarian faith is ever evolving as we are evolving. It has its roots in the Liberal Christian Tradition, inspired by the life and teachings of Jesus. Our symbol, the chalice exemplifies this perfectly. It is a kind of cross, but an evolving one, with the flames reaching out much further to a place way beyond our imaginations.

My personal faith is firmly grounded in the concept of self giving love. This is found in the liberal Christian tradition, but it is not exclusive to it. It is a universal principle found in most of the faith traditions. A flame burning in the cup of love is deeply symbolic of the roots from which we were formed, but the flames seem to indicate something more, something eternal, something way beyond the limits of human vision. There is freedom in the flames, there is wisdom yet to be unearthed in those flames and they reach beyond the limits of our human imagination. All of this is held the solid foundation of the cup of love; the solid base that sustains us as we reach further, to who knows where.

This is religion in its truest sense, this searching together, this working together, and this giving together. Each individual Unitarian adds to that flame and also takes from it. It is this continual communal search and struggle that is the rock, or the cup on which the Unitarian free religious faith lives.